


all this, and love too

by Ro29



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, I lied okay this is like a speedrun, Love, Love Realization, Poetry, There is a lot of repetition, im back on my bullshit y'all, so soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27712118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro29/pseuds/Ro29
Summary: It’s night time and they are all tired and Bly looks at Aayla and thinks,Oh.
Relationships: CC-5052 | Bly/Aayla Secura
Comments: 24
Kudos: 82





	all this, and love too

**Author's Note:**

> y'all i tried sleeping before 3 am for once and instead ended up sitting bolt upright just as I lay down with a line in my head, cranked this out in a daze and then immediately passed out i am ljsljfljd I'm losing it I'm a mess these two are jslfjslkf
> 
> anyways
> 
> title is from richard siken's 'scheherazade'
> 
> (hahaha what do you _mean_ I've been using a lot of richard siken quotes lately ksfjsfjk no idea what you're talking about/s)

It’s night time and they are all tired and Bly looks at Aayla and thinks, _Oh._

It’s night time and there is a fire and the sky is dark and the campaign has been long and Bly looks at Aayla and thinks, _oh hello_.

Bly looks at Aayla, beautiful and glowing in the light of the fire and he finds it difficult to breathe past the feeling knotted tight in his chest as he thinks, _I love you_.

Bly looks at her and it feels like something new, but he can’t imagine not loving her.

He looks at her, smeared with dirt and grieving the loss of their men and celebrating the ones who lived, and he thinks of kindness and care.

He looks at her and he thinks of laughter and joy and soft eyes, warm eyes, _kind_ eyes.

He looks at her in the light of the fire, and thinks, _I could love you and never run out of love,_ thinks, _my heart is made up of bits of you and I am made up of everything you’ve given to me._

He breathes, and it’s a revelation. He looks at her and it’s like being five standard and sneaking into the tech room again. Like snatching a datapad he wasn’t supposed to have and slicing into the holonet and reading things he isn’t supposed to. Things like, _Children deserve love and kindness,_ and _Love is gentle_ and _War is bad_ and _Children are cherished_ and _you deserve good things_.

He looks at her and it’s like being six standard with a stolen datapad that could get him decommissioned or reconditioned and still clinging on tight when he finally had to get rid of it or risk himself getting hurt. Like being five standard and too soft and too gentle and too caring when he is built for war and death and hard, sharp things.

It’s like clinging to that datapad with everything he had in his tiny bones and tiny hands and soft, weak heart and finding his eyes catching on the word _love_ because it made something inside him feel warm and ache like a physical wound and want to cry or scream or curl up with his batch and just breathe.

It’s like finding any texts he could, any poem, any story, and devouring them because they make him feel that sweet ache and gentle pain and speak of _love, care, kindness_.

He looks at her and thinks, _‘Hello love,’_ thinks, ‘ _there is a poem etched into my heart that I could tell you over and over again and still have it be true.’_ Thinks, ’ _maybe I am too soft still, too gentle, but you are kind and have never been too sharp,’_ and, ‘ _if you let me I think I could hold you in my arms forever.’_

He looks at her, caring and kind and beautiful in the night air and fire light and remembers being five standard and thinking about a poem until he could remember it forever, until it settled under his skin and beside his heart.

He looks at her and thinks to himself, “ _Hello love,_ _I am sitting on the doorstep to your heart, waiting to be let in. Waiting for the night to swallow me up or for you to warm me up. Hello Love, I am humble when I ask for your burdens and I am weak when I ask for your kiss. Hello love, I love when you laugh that awful laugh and when you smile at me and at the world. Hello love I think I could love you forever. Hello love the world is brighter with you in it and the stars are outshone when I see your eyes._

_Hello Love, I am waiting for you, but I won’t be mad if you never catch up to me. Hello Love, I am patient. Hello Love, I will let you go if you ask me to. Hello Love, I love you more than I love myself and I’d sit here on this doorstep all night and never ask for more if that was what you wanted._

_Hello love, I’d let the night swallow me up without a word if you asked._

_Hello Love, I think it’s been a long time. Hello love, I’ve known you for a minute. Hello love, you are young and you are old and you are forever stunning._

_Hello love I think I will do anything for you._

_Hello Love, just please, don’t ask me to cry.’_

He looks at her and can feel that same gentle ache in his chest, as if his heart is growing and overflowing and longing for someone to give itself to.

Bly looks at her and thinks he gets it now, how someone could say those things.

He’d wait for her forever, he’d let her go and he’d never ask for more if she was happy.

She looks at him and she is a light in the cold night, warm and bright. She looks at him, smooths her kind, gentle, hands over his cheeks. Over the gold splashes that are _hers_ and her eyes are full of _love, love, love._

Bly thinks he has never been luckier.

She smiles at him and she is gorgeous and kind and everything he should never get to have but wants anyways.

Bly _wants_ and is, in that moment, the most greedy creature to ever exist.

She smiles at him and presses gently into _keldabe._ Holds his head in her hands like he is precious and she can’t bear to let him go. It’s almost unbearable, in it’s tenderness, in the building of that knot in his chest and the ache in his heart.

He bears it. Stays there and loves her and doesn’t say a word and she smiles up at him and it’s more than enough.

She breathes and it is almost choked. She laughs and it sounds a little like a sob as she whispers, “Oh, Bly.”

Jedi are empathetic, and Bly has always felt too strongly.

He closes his eyes and she breathes, drops her hands away from his face and reaches for his hands.

Whispers, “You love so much Bly, and so kindly, how could I not love you.”

He laughs and she kisses him and he thinks, _I love you._

She squeezes his hands, whispers against his lips, “I love you too.”

The fire crackles and the night air is cold and he loves her and he is content.

**Author's Note:**

> When I tell you Im losing it I mean that I Have Lost It. These two have made me lkfjslj so soft my heart hurts a little.
> 
> The poem in this one is called [An Introductory Letter to Your Heart](https://rose-blooms-red.tumblr.com/post/635772238704050177/hello-love-i-am-sitting-on-the-doorstep-to-your)
> 
> If you want to find me other places I have a [writing tumblr](https://rose-blooms-red.tumblr.com) and a [fandom tumblr](https://themessofthecentury.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please come yell at me about Star Wars and DC!


End file.
